Something Like a Hurricane
by purplepagoda
Summary: Kathryn Angelo big mistake. What would happen if someone found out about them?
1. Nothing More Than Adult Conversation

He moves towards the sound of someone knocking on his door, with a crying baby in his arms. He doesn't check the peephole, he simply unlocks the door, and pulls it open. He finds a familiar redhead standing in front of him. She wears heels, a charcoal pencil skirt, and a coral colored button down. She enters the room, and closes the door behind her.

"I am sorry to call so late, I just didn't know who else to call. Regina made it very clear that she didn't want to have any part of this. I can't make her stop crying."

"Angelo first of all it's not that late, it is barely nine. Second of all I don't mind."

"Kathryn are you sure?"

"I'll have her in bed within fifteen minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Hand her over."

"Ok," he agrees.

Kathryn takes the baby from him. She smiles at the crying baby. "Hi, Abby."

"I have tried everything," he says in his thick accent, "She has eaten, and her diaper has been changed. I bathed her. I sang to her, I read to her. I tried the vacuum. I did everything."

Kathryn points to the couch, "Sit down, and relax. I'll put her to sleep, and then maybe you can get a little bit of rest."

"I never realized how hard this was going to be, on my own. Thank you so much."

"I am going to take her to her room."

"Ok," he nods in agreement.

She carries the baby into her room. Within two minutes the baby stops crying. Angelo vacates his seat on the couch. He heads into the nursery to see what's happened. He finds Kathryn standing in front of the crib. He stops next to her. He looks inside, and finds that the baby is sound asleep.

"What did you do to her?"

"I just swaddled her."

He stares at the baby burrito. He shakes his head, "That's it?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"How did you know that was the problem?"

"I think that Bay would still sleep swaddled."

"Did she cry like this? Abby is so loud. She just cries, and cries."

"Bay cried the first couple of nights."

"How did you figure out what the problem was?"

"I tried to figure out what they had done differently when we were in the hospital."

"Other than give her to the wrong mother?"

She smirks, "That isn't funny at all."

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"At the hospital they swaddled her. Once I realized that was all she needed, she was a happy camper."

"Bay was a happy camper?"

"She was an easy baby," Kathryn admits.

"Bay?" he questions.

"She was a dream. She slept through the night at three weeks old."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Toby was my terrorist as a baby."

"Toby?"

"He had the worst acid reflux. He never stopped screaming. By the time I got him to stop screaming he was walking. He was very high energy."

"Did you consider medication?"

"I hate to admit that it was discussed. I didn't think that he was ever going to sleep through the night."

"How old was he?"

"I remember the first time that he slept through the night, vividly."

"Because?"

"I kept thinking I was finally going to get a good night's sleep."

"Did you?"

"I found out that I was pregnant a week later," she reveals.

"Ouch."

"We should probably go before we wake her up."

"Yeah," he nods.

They leave the room. He flips off the light on the way out. She heads for the living room.

"Thank you so much."

"Not a problem. I should probably get going. I am sure that you are exhausted."

"It is nice to have an adult conversation. I have spent all day reading about princesses, and ballerinas."

"You know she isn't old enough to understand what you're reading her. John used to read the finance section of the newspaper to Bay."

"Did it sink in?"

"It put her to sleep. He would read to her before going to work, and then she would be down for her morning nap."

"Maybe I will try boring Abby to sleep next time."

Kathryn smiles, "It is worth a try."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"I should get going."

"Sit," he points to the barstool, "Have a drink. I would really appreciate ten minutes of adult conversation."

"Ok," she takes a seat on the barstool.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you make will be fine," she answers.

He whips something up. He places the glass in front of her. He takes a seat on the barstool next to her.

"I really appreciate you helping me. I must admit it is nice to see you when we aren't in the middle of disagreeing about something."

She sips her drink, "True."

"I feel like I'm the enemy most of the time," he admits.

"I think that you're misunderstood."

"John hates me. The look on his face when he is around me says, 'I could run you over with my car, and be ok with it,' you know?"

"John has a strong personality, and some very strong opinions."

"I know what I did was wrong. I have made some bad decisions. I am trying to make up for it now. I just wish that people could see that."

"I see that," she admits, emptying her glass.

"You want another one."

"I'm driving, I really shouldn't."

"It was pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah," she nods in admission.

"I was a bartender for a brief time when I was younger."

"I did not know that about you."

"It's kind of ironic. A bartender who was with an alcoholic."

Kathryn smiles, revealing her dimples, "I wasn't going to say it."


	2. Challenges

"I have to admit I don't know how you do it," he pours her another drink.

"Do what?"

"I don't know how you have made your marriage work for so long."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I just never would have pictured you with someone like John."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I feel like he stifles you."

"Oh."

"He steamrolls you."

"He doesn't. We just don't always agree."

"And you are the dutiful wife who stands by his side no matter what."

"I give him my opinion plenty. I have learned that marriage is about compromise."

"Right," he nods.

"You don't agree?"

"Marriage is about compromise, but at what point does it go beyond compromise?"

She furrows her brow, "I don't know."

"You have been his wife for most of your adult life, right?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"And, at what point did you realize that your life didn't turn out the way you planned it?"

"You mean with the switch?"

Angelo shakes his head, "No. Are you really telling me that your dream was to be a wife, and a mother?"

"You act as if I don't have anything else."

"You could have so much more."

"What are you asking me?"

"Nothing."

"No what are you trying to say?"

"When you got married you were the wife of a baseball player."

"Yeah, and?"

"And now you are the wife of a senator."

"What's wrong with that?"

"What kind of example does it set for Daphne and Bay?"

"Being a good wife?" she tries to make sense of what he's asking her.

"Defining yourself as a wife of a baseball player, or the wife of a senator? What about you? Who are you?"

"Are you saying that you think all I am is John's wife?"

"No that isn't what I am saying at all."

"So what are you saying?" she questions becoming more offended by the second.

"You are so much more than that, yet it seems like you are always taking a backseat to John. When do you ever just do something for yourself?"

She downs her second drink. She shakes her head, "I don't know."

"Kathryn you are a good person, but I look at you, and I wonder if you're happy."

"Why wouldn't I be? I have a nice life. I have a nice house, a nice car, a great husband, and incredible kids."

"If that is what fulfills you, then I am sure that you are happy."

She vacates her seat. He expects her to leave. He realizes that he has brought up some touchy subjects. She grabs the bottle off the counter. She returns to her seat, and refills their glasses. She finishes her third drink, which contains as much alcohol as her first two combined. She looks over at him.

"Sometimes I am not happy."

"Obviously. Tell me why."

"Sometimes I feel like my opinion doesn't matter."

"It does matter."

"Not enough," she argues reaching for the bottle again.

"Kathryn you should probably stop there. You're going to have to sleep on the couch as it is."

"Then what's one more?" she asks.

"You should call him, and tell him that you're crashing here, so that he doesn't worry."

"Let him worry."

"At least send him a text message," Angelo insists.

Kathryn pulls out her phone. _Baby won't go to sleep, might be here all night, at this rate, _she sends the text message to her husband. She places her phone on the counter, and continues on her path of destruction. She pours them both another drink. She finishes hers.

"Bottoms up."

"I am not drinking anymore."

"You can't keep up with a girl?"

"I have never seen you like this," he admits.

"Angelo there are a lot of things you don't know about me," she reveals.

"I can see that."

"I won a lot of bets in college drinking guys like you under the table."

"Why?"

She shrugs, "Yolo?"

"That wasn't a thing then," he reminds her.

"It was college, I did a lot of stupid things."

"Why? You're intelligent, and beautiful why would you want to do stupid things?"

"The same reason everyone else did, I just wanted to fit in."

"You're not in college anymore," he reminds her.

"Finish your drink," she insists.

"It still seems like you're trying to fit in."

"Are you say that I'm trying too hard?"

"You drive a Mercedes, you're a member of the PTA, and the country club, you tell me."

"I am really insulted. You think that all I am is a gold digging member of the country club who has this miserable life? Is that really what you think of me?"

"No."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"I didn't. You are the one who mentioned having a miserable life," he points out.

"I am so sick of doing everything that I am supposed to do all of the time. I just want to do something reckless."

"How about crashing on my couch? I am pretty sure when you tell your husband this story tomorrow you are going to be satisfied with that."

She looks into his dark brown eyes, "Maybe I don't want to sleep on your couch."

He reaches for the bottle of liquor. She grabs it before he can.

"I'll tell you what, if you can beat me at a game of quarters I will gladly go crash on the couch, and end the madness."

"Quarters? You really did do a lot of drinking in college, didn't you?"

"Only when I was underage."

"Why when you were underage?"

"I was rebellious, and reckless. By the time I turned twenty one I was over myself, and ready to be an adult."


	3. Broken Vows

About an hour later they've both had too much to drink. She looks at the empty bottle, and then looks at him.

"It's getting late," he looks at his watch.

"It's not even midnight," she points out.

"Maybe I should call John to come pick you up."

"He hates you, I am sure that would end well."

"Maybe I should call one of the girls to pick you up," he offers.

"Angelo it's a school night the girls are in bed."

"At eleven o'clock?"

"I don't want one of them to come pick me up."

"I should get to bed Abby will be awake in a couple of hours."

She looks at him. She carefully slides off her barstool. She takes a step closer to him. He looks into her eyes. She stares him down as if she's challenging him to make a move. He breaks the silence.

"I should get to bed," he points past her.

She bites her bottom lip. She searches his eyes for what she's looking for. "Don't," she says in a hushed tone.

"Kathryn," he warns.

She takes a step closer. Her fingers press against his chest. He freezes. She presses her lips against his. He pushes her away.

"We shouldn't do this," he tells her. He reaches past her, to the counter, "I'm going to call you a cab."

She stands so close to him that he can almost feel hear heart beating. His hand falls to his side, and he looks at her. He sees the anger that she's been pushing down for so long. He sees the pain in her eyes that she's been trying to hide. He knows that he's playing with fire. He knows he should call her a cab before one of them does something stupid. She presses her lips to his once again.

He doesn't push her away this time. He kisses her back. As his hand finds its way to the base of her skull she feels the passion that is missing from her marriage. His other hand comes to rest on the small of her back. She pulls on his shirt, and he unbuttons hers.

His belt hits the floor, and she shimmies out of her skirt on the way to the bedroom. By the time they find the doorway to the bedroom they're down to nothing more than undergarments. He reaches for the clasp of her bra, and she pushes the door closed.

She wakes to a pounding headache, and the sound of a crying baby. She feels herself tangled in sheets. She opens her eyes, and looks at the room. Her heart sinks as she realizes that she isn't in her own bed. She rolls to her other side. She looks at the man sleeping next to her. She slides out of the bed. The clock tells her that it's nearly five o'clock in the morning. She holds the sheet around her as she collects her clothes off the floor. She drops the sheet on the floor before leaving the room. She follows her trail of clothing down the hallway towards the living room. She slips on her pantyhose, and then her shoes. She finds her shirt. She pulls on her shirt, and haphazardly buttons it.

She grabs her phone, and her keys, and leaves the condo. She closes the door behind her. She finds her way to her car. She locks herself inside, and turns the key. The engine turns over, but she doesn't move. She grips her steering wheel in disbelief. She flips down the visor. She opens the mirror, and takes a look at herself. Her mascara is smeared. She grabs a tissue out of the side pocket of the door. She wipes the make up off her face, and pulls her hair into a pony tale. She puts the car flips the visor back up, and puts the car into drive.

She makes her way home. She takes a couple of Aspirin out of the cabinet in the kitchen. She swallows them back with a sip of water. She heads tiptoes into her room, relieved that her husband is still sleeping. She grabs her pajama's and darts out of the room. She heads to the guest bathroom, and quickly showers. She dries her hair halfway. She tosses her dirty clothes down the laundry shoot. She heads down the stairs to the couch. She pulls a blanket over her, and closes her eyes.

She's barely fallen asleep when she hears someone in the kitchen. She sits up, realizing that she's not going to get to sleep any longer. She climbs off the couch, and heads into the kitchen. She finds her husband starting a pot of coffee. He kisses her.

"You look like you had a rough night."

"You have no idea."

"Why did you sleep on the couch?" he wonders.

"It was late when I got in. I didn't want to wake you."

"It was nice of you to go over and help Angelo out. I just hope you won't be making a habit of it."

"Definitely not," she stares at the coffee pot longingly.

"You want some?"

She simply nods, taking a seat as he hands her a cup. She sits in front of the island in the kitchen. He kisses her head.

"I've got to go, see you later."

"Bye," she waves him off.

She finishes her cup of coffee, and heads over to the cabinet. She pulls out a box of pancake mix. The girls come into the kitchen as she flips the pancakes onto a plate.

"Are you girls hungry?"

"Are you planning on feeding an army? That is enough pancakes for six people," Bay points out.

Daphne grabs one off the stack, "Thanks," she heads for the door.

Bay follows suit, "Where are the two of you off to?" Kathryn questions.

"School. We're running late," Bay answers as she races out the door. The slamming door makes her head throb.

Kathryn stares at the stack of pancakes. She grabs the syrup, and begins to eat, in silence. She's only made it through a couple of bites when the door opens.

"I forgot to make your lunches," Kathryn realizes.

Regina appears, "You were going to make my lunch?"

"I thought that you were the girls."

"That is a stack of pancakes," Regina points.

"I may have overestimated how hungry I was."

"Are you ok?"

"Fine, why?"

"You're eating hangover food."

"Pancakes? Regina they're just pancakes."

"Two pancakes, maybe. Half a dozen, that is hangover food. Are you hungover?"

"I'm fine."

"I thought that you went to Angelo's last night."

"I did."

"And you had a few drinks after you got the baby to bed?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"He made you one of his famous cocktails," she assumes.

"Yes."

"If you plan on avoiding feeling miserable I suggest that you have some protein with all of those carbs."

"I will take that into consideration."

"Otherwise your sugar will bottom out. How many did you have?"

She shrugs.


End file.
